


Water Under The Bridge

by sparepartsandbrokenhearts



Category: Berena - Fandom, Campwolfe - Fandom, Holby City
Genre: CampWolfe, Catherine Russell, F/F, Jemma Redgrave - Freeform, berena - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparepartsandbrokenhearts/pseuds/sparepartsandbrokenhearts
Summary: A one-shot imagining of Serena's icy reaction to Bernie's Holby return, and Bernie working her BMAM magic to win back her girl.~~ If you're gonna let me down, let me down gentlyDon't pretend that you don't want meOur love ain't water under the bridge ~~





	

**Author's Note:**

> An angsty, fluffy one-shot ramble inspired by the song "Water Under The Bridge" by Adele: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1kx6tyKAFg

“It's good to be back.”

“It's good to have you back.”

“Could have fooled me,” thought Bernie as Serena hurried away. 

The days pass in this purgatory. Serena Campbell, bearing grudges for life, doesn't just give Bernie Wolfe the cold shoulder; she is the Snow Queen come to life. At the nurses station Serena chides Fletch and Morven for sharing a giggle with the trauma surgeon. In the office she greets Bernie with clipped “hellos”, reluctantly taking sips of the coffee Bernie has bought for her when she's alone in the office. At Albie's she is dolled up to the nines, all loud laughs and smiles, as Bernie props up the corner of the bar watching her with a knowing smile.

“It's rude to stare,” says Ric, sidling up to Bernie to order another whisky. 

“Well, when the view's this good...” she replies.

“She'll cool down eventually. She always does.”

“I don't think cool is the problem, Ric. I'm practically frozen.”

He chuckles. “Give it some time. She can't ignore you forever.”

“No. She can't,” and with a wink, Bernie leaves.

~~~

It starts with just the merest of gestures. Bernie leans in a little too close for comfort at the nurses station as Serena explains a particularly complex case. Serena can feel the fabric of the Major's scrubs rub gently against her shirt, a few seconds only, and Serena momentarily forgets the game she has been playing. Her fingers fumble on the iPad, and Bernie smiles inwardly, thinking to herself, “1-0”. And then she is gone.

~~~

Serena has spent the day avoiding Bernie at all costs after their little dalliance at the nurses station earlier in the week. She's alone in the office in fur hat and coat, ready to go home but prevented from doing so by a stubborn filing cabinet. 

“Blasted thing!”

In her impatience to escape Holby before Ms Wolfe's shift ends, she has managed to jam the drawer in an attempt to retrieve an important paper for some bedtime reading. 

“Bugger it!”

Just as she's about to give up and leave, in strides Bernie, who has been watching this office drama unfold through a crack in the blinds. 

“Everything alright there, Ms Campbell?”

Serena turns her head, feigning a smile, desperately trying to hide her frustration. 

“Yes, quite peachy thank you, Ms Wolfe. I was just... erm... putting some documents away for the evening.”

“Ah. So that's why the top drawer is sticking out half an inch with paper hanging out of it. Ripped.” Bernie tries to stifle a laugh.

“Well, yes, I was about to--” glowers Serena, turning back to resume hostilities with said filing cabinet.

“Here. Let me.”

And before she has chance to decline the offer, Bernie is behind her, barely a finger breadth of space between them, reaching her toned, tanned arms over Serena's shoulders. She places her hands on Serena's and with the gentlest of shoves, the drawer is freed. Seconds feel like hours as Serena tries to compose herself, feeling Bernie's cheek almost resting against hers. The air is thick and Serena wonders if this is heaven or hell; the exquisite agony of the warmth of the Major's body pressed so close to hers, her lips just a turn of the head away. 

“Goodnight, Ms Campbell.”

And once more Bernie is gone, her words ringing through Serena's ears, her hot breath bringing to life every nerve in Serena's body. 

2-0.

~~~

Albie's is packed, but even above the din Bernie can hear Serena's low, dirty laugh. Even from across the bar, the sound thrums through her body, adding fuel to already-uncontrollable flames. Serena is sashaying her way through the throngs, making ribald jokes as only she knows how, Ric, Sacha and Raf hanging on her every quip. This is vintage Serena, thinks Bernie. All charm, and glamour, and fire and ice. 

Bernie motions to the barman for another scotch.

“And a large glass of shiraz. For the lady in red.”

Serena is at the far end of the bar now. She takes the glass and cocks her head towards Bernie in a gesture of gratitude. Bernie responds with a sultry smile, her eyes warm and inviting. Serena hesitates a moment, her eyes locked on the Major, before replacing the glass on the bar. She turns and retreats to the ladies room.

She's too busy putting on lipstick to hear the door open.

“That's a fine shade of red, Ms Campbell.”

Serena freezes, her lipstick held still in the air.

“Thank you. It's Louboutin.”

“Of course it is,” replies Bernie wryly.   
“I hope you enjoyed the wine.”

“Yes, I did. Thank you, Ms Wolfe, a most kind gesture.”

Serena gathers her make-up into her bag and turns quickly on her heel, hoping in vain to make a quick exit from the bathroom. 

“Well, my boys await,” and with a wink, she heads for the door. As she hurries past, Bernie grabs her hand.

“How long will we play this game, Serena?”

Serena is silent. She swallows hard, desperate to push down and bury the desire that has been growing inside her since Bernie first stepped back onto AAU.

“What game would that be?” asks Serena, turning to face Bernie.

“The one where you continue to avoid me, and punish me, and pretend that nothing ever happened between us.”

“You'd know all about avoiding people, wouldn't you? I hear Kiev's nice this time of year.”

“Ouch,” winces Bernie, “I suppose I deserve that.”

“Bloody right you do.”

Serena's eyes glisten in the dim light of the bathroom. Too proud to let a tear fall in front of Bernie, she focuses all attention on using her free hand to fiddle with her necklace.

“I thought you were going back to the boys,” Bernie asks, motioning to where their hands are still firmly clasped, bound together by anger and lust and love and regret. 

Serena's lip quivers ever so slightly.

“You know.... I'm so fucking angry at you, Berenice. Because you ran. You left me to pick up the pieces and listen to the gossips and face the music. And I can do that. God knows I've had my share of hard knocks, I know how to carry on regardless. But I never thought you'd do this. My friend. My best bloody friend.”

She exhales. A sarcastic laugh escapes from her mouth.

“Now you're back. And I'm angry at myself,” she continues, biting her lip to restrain the tears. “Because despite everything, despite the radio silence, the mutterings behind my back, despite all that, knowing all of this should be water under the bridge... the world still stops when I look at you.”

A sad but hopeful smile flickers across Bernie's face. Slowly, she takes Serena's other hand and entwines their fingers. Silence stretches between them for what feels like eons. 

“Serena,” she whispers finally.

“Look at me.”

Serena looks up into those chocolate brown eyes, her coldness melting away with each passing minute. Bernie reaches out her thumb to sweep away the tears now rolling down Serena's cheeks, before taking her hand once more.

“I'm sorry I ran.” 

She kisses one finger.

“I'm sorry I hurt you.”

She kisses another.

“I'm sorry I wasn't here for you.”

A third.

“I'm sorry I wasn't brave.”

Fourth.

“And I will spend however long it takes making it up to you.”

Last but not least.

“I love you.”

Bernie brings her forehead to meet Serena's, eyes closed, both still in the quietude of the moment, this redemptive, longed-for reunion.

“Finally. I've been waiting six weeks to hear that,” chuckles Serena. 

“Actually, I think I've been waiting longer,” Bernie replies. 

Their lips meet for a third time, soft but eager, neither wanting to break away. Bernie wraps her arms around Serena, who breaks the kiss first.

“Everything alright?” asks Bernie with furrowed eyebrows. 

Serena responds with a wink, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

“Take me home, Major.”

3-0.

~~~


End file.
